Fire and Ice
by Delusional Fishies
Summary: Two girls, one throne. Azula and Elsa, fire and ice. Perhaps Elsa will teach Azula a thing or two about decency, or perhaps Azula'll teach her to be naughtier. And in between them, a Game of Thrones.
1. Azula I

Fire and Ice

Azula 1

She woke with practiced ease of a soldier amidst a campaign, but from the moment her eyes opened, Azula knew something was wrong. She had awakened in a place far away from where she had fallen asleep the previous night. The sudden change washed away the jovial fervor that had soaked her mind after her glorious conquest of Ba Sing Se and the Avatar.

The air was too cold; she saw her breath linger visibly before her eyes and there was a numbness on the fore of her skin that should not happen to a firebender, and certainly not her, not unless she had been taken prisoner into the center of the North Pole…

With the grace of a hunting panther, she leaped up from the ground and took in her surroundings. Her muscles coiled and released; her inner flames heated and boiled, and her body warmed and loosened up within seconds. The air was cold, but also fresh. It was so different from the smells she had come to be accustomed to that she blinked in surprise.

She was in the middle of a pine forest, the opposite of the industrious Fire Nation's war camps, and on a hill that overlooked some kind of a primitive Earth Nation lord's city. Indeed, it was comparable to Omashu, if not for the thin walls and the manpower lacking on its walls.

She replayed her situation within her mind, not quite comprehending the truth of her situation. She was alone, in the wilderness and away from her nation. The fires of industry were so distant that there was almost no sign of pollution around her. The sun shone above her with an abnormal dimness that caused her to wonder if it was even Agni who watched from above at all.

It could be a trick of the spirits, if she believed in such things. But even if she didn't she knew that—

"—Something's wrong," A deep, but smooth voice spoke a few meters away from her, from behind some foliage and trees. It was a feminine voice filled with authority and power, but also with a tremble and a strange accent to twist the words spoken. Azula knew the sound and tone well, it was the sound of fear and loneliness.

Azula immediately dropped to the ground and crept closer. She watched through the thin veil of bushes as the target of her attention continued to speak to herself, unaware that she was being watched.

"Something is very wrong. The sky is wrong, the clouds, the mountains, oh, where am I?" The woman muttered, with an almost sing-song melody just waiting to be released in her voice. She stood tall and regal, reminding Azula of her father, but that was where the resemblances ended. This woman was clearly a stranger to her lands and if the ethereal, golden threads that made up her hair were any indication, she was either a foreigner from lands unknown, or she was touched by the spirits, as the Fire Sages would have said. But Azula knew appearances didn't matter.

In face of all this, Azula strode out of her hiding spot with barely a rustle of sound, knowing that the foreigner was clearly unsure and ignorant of the lay of the land. "I was wondering that exact thing, actually," Azula replied to the blonde's self-prompted question as she slinked over, oozing the confidence of a conqueror.

It had an effect, but perhaps not exactly what Azula wanted. Her blonde opposite immediately took a step backwards, almost tripping on her silvery gown in her haste. It was a curious material that the woman wore; Azula had seen silk before and this was not it. The material was white and blue, but clear and without a single flaw. It was a clear sign of wealth, but something was off about the material that sent chills down Azula's spine.

Not that Azula showed this, of course.

The blonde's eyes widened with comedic innocence that not even Zuzu showed since his thirteenth birthday and she whimpered, "Please, don't get any closer!"

"Oh? I won't… bite. I promised," but Azula prowled closer and circled the woman with a vicious gait in her steps. Azula licked her lips in anticipation and had to force herself from laughing at the woman's—no, perhaps she was no more than a girl, really—transparency. It was too easy to see what she was thinking! "What's the matter?"

"It's not safe! Please, stay back, I can't…" The woman paused and took three quick and short steps back and stood on her toes, as if she were on the edge of a cliff.

But Azula kept inching forward. She couldn't help it, watching the poor girl panic like this. Yet even as Azula amused herself with the innocent terror on the blonde's visage, her mind raced to figure out just way she kept backing up. Did the girl know who Azula was? Did she bring Azula here, in the middle of nowhere, or know how this happened?

Or did she have a different secret altogether?

Resisting the urge to bridge her fingers together in delight, Azula slithered closer around the blonde girl and drawled, "Now, now. If you knew who I was, then you would know that I'm a big girl and I can protect myself just fine."

But the blonde shook her head frantically, "No, no! That's not it at all! I don't know who you are—"

"Well then, I am Princess Azula, of the Fire Nation." She reached forward for a traditional clasp of wrists between warriors; one of the many ways that those of higher rank greeted each other, along with a handshake that would have been an identical gesture.

And incidentally, the blonde was educated enough or cultured enough to react to this gesture by raising an opposing hand to reciprocate on instinct. With a regal, practiced nod, she started to respond, "I am Queen Elsa—"

Azula did not hide her shark-like smile this time. She rushed forward and clasped her hands against Elsa's wrist. For a moment, Azula felt triumphant at Elsa's distress. She felt the Queen's pulse quicken under her forefinger and middle finger, a beat and then another, but then everything went wrong.

The wind howled like a storm, and without warning from any energy known to Azula or any gesture single gesture by Elsa, the wintery wind blasted Azula off of her feet.

She flipped and landed two meters backwards, with her inner flames already brewing into a rage and turning the lingering flakes of snow on her flawless, oiled skin to droplets. With a click of her tongue, she hissed, "_Waterbender_."

"I-I'm sorry, but you must leave. Or I will. I don't want to hurt you," Elsa leaned away, almost like a snow rabbit inching away from a predator in Azula's eyes.

This suited Azula just fine. She didn't want or need a Waterbender here, but Azula wanted—above all other things in her life—to conquer the wintery queen. The subtle method didn't work, just like it never worked with Zuzu. Azula clicked her tongue again in agitation, before a ball of blue fire sizzled into existence in her hand. The flame swirled around her, turning away the cold winds with a heated draft of hot undercurrent.

But there was another reason why Azula wanted to beat the girl-queen. The winds carried something with them that tried to pierce into Azula's heart like a blast of ice or a spirit of winter. Hot anger bubbled into boiling lava within Azula's body, and shot out in a gout of intense heat that buffeted away any sign of ice and knocked the other girl off of her feet.

Elsa picked herself up with a remarkable slothfulness, but when she blinked away the tears that the heated winds brought to her eyes, there was an equal, opposing emotion in her eyes that stared back into Azula's eyes. The fiery air had melted away her clothes, leaving a black and teal gown that was more conservative and restricting than the silky material Elsa was wearing before. Now Azula marveled at that the girl had somehow made her clothes from water. It was trick that she had never encountered in any other Waterbender before, and it set Azula's teeth on edge.

"I may not want to hurt anyone… but I won't be pushed around. The past is in the past, I've let it go already," Elsa's thin, delicate fingers clenched into fists. A circle of ice shards larger than javelins shot out of the ground around her like a crown of crystals, with smaller, jagged shards growing from them like gleaming daggers pointed at every direction.

The shy girl who was afraid was gone, as if she was never there to begin with. Small bursts of fires couldn't even reach her now, as a shawl of silky ice flowed around the icy queen and shielded her. It was all an act, Azula realized as her eyes widened in shock molten air dripping from her fingertips just to be countered by the icy blasts that flew at her from all sides.

Well, Azula always did like a challenge. She released her fires, letting the freezing air bite into her skin. It was painful.

But it was a good sort of pain; it made her feel alive. Azula shuddered in excitement as she allowed another vicious grin grace her face, but it was different this time. She wasn't a predator cornering an animal, she was a warrior discovering an opponent who could be a potential equal—_a queen indeed_.

With a stomp of her foot, a giant, spinning plateau of ice grew out from under Elsa and rose into the sky as the air itself bent to surround her. A battle skirt and armor of pure white covered her, like sheets of diamond covered silk.

"I really should learn that trick," Azula chortled an acknowledgement before she rolled her shoulders and stretched her arms out.

While her flames couldn't press against her skin like armor, Azula's fires swirled about in uncontrolled chaos. They incinerated the greenery and consumed the oaks, leaving towering pillars of azure fires. They roared in defiance to the cold, forming into a heated, blue palace too hot to even stare into.

The fires surged forth at the same time the ice did and they met in a swirl of elemental fury. Fire melted ice but ice froze fire, and this cycle of destruction and consumption continued for what seemed to be an endless circle. They couldn't touch each other without both being burned and frozen, yet they each couldn't calm the flurry of the other's power.

After what seemed like hours, both girls stood at opposing sides of a desolate clearing. The plant life and animal life had all long since died around them, leaving an empty husk of crackling embers and melting snow.

"I tried! Heaven knows, I tried… I can't hold it back anymore. Please, stop." Elsa spoke first, her eyes desperate and her voice pleading, but something in her tone turned her words into the command of a queen.

Azula couldn't help it—she barked out a laugh, before it grew to an uncontrolled cackle that seemed to make the wintery queen feel cold. After calming herself, Azula picked herself up and wiped her brow on her sleeve. The red and gold ceremonial armor she wore was darkened, and probably ruined, but she couldn't bring herself to stop giggling. A Waterbender who didn't want to kill her? A queen who wanted to coexist? The very idea was absurd, as was the idea of Azula meeting an equal and opposite!

But in a dark, sad corner in her mind, buried under all the years of conditioning placed upon her by her father, by the court, by her mentors, and by her nation, Azula hoped that she had just made a friend. That is why she reached out again and grasped Elsa's hand. The inner fires of her _chi_ were more than enough to counter any act of Elsa's ice. "Alright," Azula said to Elsa's startled and strangely hopeful features. "Alright. Let's start this over. I'm Azula."

"… I'm Elsa?" She sounded as if she was bewildered, how silly of her.

"Together, we can conquer the world," Azula smiled again, clasping her grip to Elsa's hand. The skin against Azula's palm felt so soft, so delicate, and it was so delightfully alabaster that Azula once again wondered if Elsa was a spirit and not a person. Still, Elsa already knew how to act, Azula noted, so she was a step above Mai.

Elsa replied by blinking and imitating Azula's giggle awkwardly.

She wasn't really into it, but Azula nodded. It was good enough for now and she could always work on getting Elsa to be more likeminded at a later date. "Yeah, we'll have to work on that, Elsa. Don't worry, we'll get you fixed up in no time."

"… Thanks?"


	2. Azula II

Fire and Ice

Azula II

The man who sat before her had a wild mat of graying hair that complimented his assortment of furs. Compared to the men who sat closer to her, and the men at his side, he was an unremarkable man in his middle years, older than her father, certainly. But he was polite in his own way, sitting in the dark corner and studying Elsa and Azula as if he had not thought she would notice him. He was a large man, with a straight back and an honest, if worn, face, but it was the shrewdness that shone in his eyes that alarmed Azula most. There was intelligence hidden behind that mediocre façade.

And this was more than Azula could say for the other men around her. To her disgust, they would openly leer at her and Elsa as if they were merely pieces of meat, and they scooted closer to take in a whiff of the pair of girls' scent.

In their defense, it didn't look like they had even heard of the concept of bathing. The stench of sweat, rot, and _men_ in this skin-covered hovel was utterly rancid. It was degrading to even sit in here. Azula's throat rumbled an instinctive growl at the men who got too close, but rather than be intimidated, their leers grew. The men turned to each other, grunting unintelligible congratulations and crude slang that even Azula knew were innuendo for these animals' base desires.

"How utterly disgusting," She said aloud, challenging those within the tent to say otherwise. Elsa looked around behind her cautiously, and Azula knew that she would need to teach her newly found friend how to deal with… barbarians such as these. Elsa, her naïve friend, tugged on her sleeve as quietly as she could.

_Friend?_ The larger part of what makes Azula scoffs. _Princess Azula has no friends. She has assets and followers and minions._ Besides, why did Elsa fear, when these mongrels display no aptitude for bending, if not for her silly need to see others unharmed by her waterbending?

"Spoken like a true Southerner. So tell me, what are you doing here, in the North beyond the Wall, girl?" It wasn't the older man who spoke, but a brash, younger one, who smelled of stale beer, dried blood, and rutting. He had a mane of red hair over his messy conglomeration of decorative furs and skins.

Azula crossed her arms above her chest and stared down at these ragged men. They each bore a weapon or two and hid more in crudely obvious places. They wore skins like the barbarians under Chin the Conqueror, but uglier, smellier, and dirtier. There would be little to reasoning with them, she thought. "Why are we here? We are here because your people brought us here," She drawled slowly, but she also held an appreciative eye on their belongings. "Perhaps you can tell us more about this place."

"Hmph, are you daft, girl?" The red-haired barbarian rose up clumsily and held an axe at Azula's neck. The metal of the blade was old, with notches that told is story of being a weapon that was passed down from father to son. It was dull, but the man-child seemed to have no doubts that he could slit her throat in moments. "You'll tell me what I want to know, or I can ask your friend over your cooling corpse."

_You do not have friends, daughter. You have people who fear you and are used by you. Never think otherwise_, the voice of the Firelord echoed from her memories. It was a moment of weakness in her life, though she could not feel anything but love and fear for her father, she did feel hatred for her own weakness. That hatred channeled into _chi_, materialized as power.

And the dull, iron blade heated, until the entire slab glowed with an angry, red heat that washed over the occupants of the tent. She leaned closer, willing the iron to burn, burn, burn as the man who held it backed away a step before dropping the weapon altogether. "What's wrong?" She raised an eyebrow in elegant, feigned innocence. "Weren't you saying something about… oh, what was that again?"

"Witch!" The man growl, and he pulled a knife from his sleeve.

But before he could charge another step, the man—that Azula had her eyes on since the beginning of this charade—stood up and roared, "Enough! Sit down you fool, before the girl does something permanent. And you, girl, are you asking for death? You strut around like some spoiled lady of the south, not even knowing what the Wall is. There is no need for foolishness like that in this camp."

Azula suppressed her mirth at the man's unspoken threat. It wasn't like this bit of ice and snow would be a problem for her, nor would it be a problem for her Elsa, probably. She spun and draped her arms around Elsa from behind the blonde queen—much like Ty Lee always did—and said, "Ah, but no, I am Azula, and this is Elsa. I think you want us more than you're letting on, and besides, the cold never bothered me anyway."

"And how do you figure that?" The man grumbled skeptically, but he stayed his hand. The desperation for help was clear as day to Azula, even if they tried so hard to be tough men and hide it.

"Oh, I've seen your camp. You've got, what? More than a couple thousand disgruntled and disorganized children like him," Azula stared pointedly at the red-head who had tried to pathetically threaten her moments ago, laughing inwardly at his embarrassed grumble and the half-hearted, encouraging grunts of his fellows. "These camps are crude and temporary. I saw the tracks in the snow and in the trails while being 'kindly escorted' to you. You're running from something, and you've been running for a while now."

The man stared at her, silent, but she didn't bother reading his expression. Someone who ruled so many people to an age that equaled her father was more than difficult to see through. But his men, on the other hand, were comparatively weak-willed and lacked the social acumen to hide their thoughts.

"Now, now, there's no need to be shy about it," Azula drawled again. "It looks like no one in your camp can use… 'magic' like me. That says to me that I'm much more valuable to you alive and functioning than otherwise, isn't that right?"

"Mance Rayder," The older man replied gruffly. But then he deflated, seeing the power of the fire at Azula's beck and call. "You think you can help, against the abominations that chase us? I don't trust you at all, Azula and I don't trust your friend who isn't speaking for herself."

"I-I can speak for myself just fine!" Elsa retorted. She struggled for a moment in Azula's hands before resigning herself to such a fate. Her skin was cold to Azula's touch, even through her armor, but not cold enough that Azula couldn't counter it with her own internal bending. Elsa sighed, "I don't even want to be in your camp, but I don't think you'll just let us go, right?"

"That is true," Mance Rayder replied. The implied murder and threat was there, especially since the girls were bound and gagged when they were brought into this camp in the first place.

"Well, how about you tell us of your troubles then?" Elsa muttered softly. "I could… we could probably help."

Mance Rayder stares for a moment at them, studying them. The Firelord had taught Azula that rulers often take a moment to ponder, to show that they actually thought about their decisions and to give their subjects a feeling of importance, so to not spurn them with abrupt judgments. Then the barbarian leader nodded, "Where do I start, what do you not know?"

"You can start from who is chasing you," Azula replied, getting to the crux of the matter.

Mance's eyes closed and the light of the fire in the tent amplified the wary and aged expression on his visage. He stared into the heat and began to speak, "Then let me tell you of the White Walkers and of the living dead that follow them. Let me tell you of the Wall which bars our way and of the Winter that is coming."

Elsa shivered in Azula's hands. _Curious_.

* * *

Notes

Yes, I was convinced that having Ned as a starting point wouldn't be as exciting. He'll come around eventually though.


	3. Elsa I

Fire and Ice

Elsa I

Confusion and exhilaration filled Elsa as she watched the crackling, delicate flames at the center of the room. The stout warrior men of the mountains and the snow focused their attention on Azula, who in turn focused on the leader of these wild men, Mance Rayder. They danced around each other with words and talked small nothings, all the while the tension in the musky tent grew. But Elsa barely heard their words; she barely even reacted to the honest language of their bodies.

Instead, Elsa watched the hearth. The fire waxed and waned with her breath, and she dared not even breathe too harshly, for that would kill all heat in her presence. The sound of her heart pounding rapidly and loudly echoed in her ears and her mind; Elsa wanted nothing more than to turn and run away.

She didn't belong here, in the world of men and living. Did she? How would she know if she did or didn't? _Why do you lock yourself away? Why didn't you tell me…?_

A soft, firm hand grasped hers, shocking her out of her reverie of the past. Elsa's eyes fluttered upwards and widened as they met Azula's blazing, darkly golden pupils. The smile she saw was not that of the huntress she stared down earlier, but something weakly encouraging—it was as I Azula knew the social cues, but didn't ever encourage anyone before.

Not that Elsa knew better, of course – Elsa never had much contact with people in the most recent decade of her memory.

_It is a weak thing, hope. _Elsa wanted to look away, but the longer she looked into Azula's eyes, the fiery glaze seemed to grow bolder. Elsa couldn't turn away, not with her breath caught in her chest, choking down her past fears. She couldn't turn away, and with each second her resolve grew. She won't make the mistakes she made in the past.

Where she was and who they were seemed almost insignificant concerns now, compared to the pressing question at the front of Elsa's thoughts. _Will they, will she, accept me for who and what I am?_

All the while, Mance Rayder spoke in his harsh, weathered voice of a surreal nightmare not out of place in fairy tales. Unlike his men, Mance Rayder noticed the silent play between Azula and Elsa, but he seemed to pay it no mind. "And the White Walkers, snow-colored skin and glowing blue eyes, will raise the dead. They cannot be harmed by iron and stone and only fire will slow them. That is why the dead are burned, we cannot risk them returning. Weapons shatter on the White Walkers, like ice."

Elsa felt dizzy, perhaps because the flames seemed to grow and choke her or perhaps because her resolve faltered with each word Mance Rayder spoke.

"Once I have gathered all that I can, we will climb the Wall, to escape certain death," He resigned with a cough.

"The same wall that you say was raised magically, and supposed to keep these things that already hunt you out?" Azula asked in the dainty, proper way that Elsa's foggy memory remembered of her own mother had often spoken to the ambassadors who visited their household. Azula's brow rose elegantly and she leaned back, letting the shadows wash over her outside of the orange light of the hearth. "You are more desperate than you let on."

Mance Rayder glared, but he didn't reply, because he knew, as Elsa logically knew, Azula was right.

"You're going to keep running, and running, and running, forever?" Laughter filled Azula's voice. It was a tone that Elsa had only rarely encountered, something she almost couldn't understand. "With winters lasting decades long, all according to you, then that means even if you run from one corner of the world to another, you will be caught, eventually. Why, I remember rather fondly of someone I hunted who thought to do the same…"

It was mocking, Elsa realized. But why mock the meek and those in need of help? It seemed almost too cruel of Azula, and Elsa thought to speak up then, were it not for Azula's tight grasp on her wrist.

"Why you—" One of the other muscular, powerfully armed men growled menacingly, rising up from his sit.

"Now, now, don't fret your smelly, lice-covered heads over such a small detail. We would be… ah, glad to help, I think, wouldn't we, Elsa?" Azula continued to say, dragging things on for a reason that Elsa didn't know, but couldn't help but only trust the girl in.

Meekly, and still confused as to Azula's goals, Elsa nodded and tried to speak, only to be cut off again.

"—Provided certain conditions are met, of course," Azula added with a thin, soft smile. It was a pretty smile that almost charmed Elsa, but the snow queen frowned instead. Those lidded eyes and seductive glaze did exactly what Azula wanted, but they evoked a different reaction in Elsa.

_Her pretty smile is more dangerous than the weapons of men_. Elsa shivered again in Azula's hands.

"… What do you want?" Mance Rayder leaned in and growled, his patience wearing thin from Azula's antics at last.

But Elsa had little stomach for negotiations and politics. She barely held her own the first time she opened the gates, and look what a mess that turned out to be. She sighed loudly and said to Azula, "I will trust you in this, Azula. Let me get some fresh air while you discuss whatever it is that you want, alright? I would just be a bother if I stay here any longer." In truth, she could barely stand the smell—not to mention there was little room for her to sit down comfortably in this huddled-up, little tent—but she certainly couldn't say that politely.

"Elsa—" Azula began to say, but she stopped after seeing something in Elsa's eyes. Then she adopted an unreadable look and nodded, "Alright. Don't get into too much trouble."

On the inside, Elsa giggled awkwardly and nervously, but outwardly, she huffed, "I never look for trouble, Azula."

Elsa pushed apart the flaps of the tent and walked out without another word, only silently nodding a slight curtsey to Mance Rayder otherwise. To call it just a tent would have done the little structure little favors. It was larger than the other hundreds of tents that surrounded it in some sort of wild, unseen pattern, but it was built upon stone and held up by large beams of old, creaking wood. Giants walked about the camps to the Elsa's earlier astonishment, and it was obvious who laid the foundations for many of these larger tents. The clattering sounds of stone and metal clashing rang about with the activities of preparation for war, but Elsa also saw children running about in laughter, between the legs of giants and around fretting adults. They all stopped to stare at her, suspicion and curiosity mixing chaotically on their expressions.

Elsa held her head high and her chin up; she trusted her new friend as much as one could when they shared a kinship of powers in an inhospitable land, but she was her own person now. She shook her head and walked forward proudly, conscious of both herself and the camp of wild folk around her._ No more whispers in the shadows, no more locking herself in, and no more accidents. _But how would she know where she could be alone? She couldn't be alone, not in this strange, foreign land…

That she was in a place so far away from Arrendale—that she might never see her sister and her people again—was both a frightening and a freeing thought, but Elsa knew that this had not truly sunken in yet. She sighed and let the thought go; there would be a time and place for that, but she couldn't and wouldn't deal with anymore of the stressful thoughts for now. That's the point of taking a walk, after all!

The children were the first to approach her. They were wild in the sense that they looked like they never bathed in their lives and had so many tangles in their long, braided hair that Elsa flinched at the thought of combing through such a mess if it was hers. They wore grey and white furs and feathers, like the pagan tribes of old. There was a stench of charcoal on them, which amplified the darkened spots of grim on their skin and told Elsa that these people were far, far removed from civilization. Yet they were curious like Anna, especially the children who drew closer to peer at her.

"Please, don't come to close," Elsa warned, hoping against hope that she does not accidentally spill her powers haphazardly and hurt someone. She had resolved in the tent to share with them the knowledge of what she contained within, but she didn't want to let it out, not here.

"You a Southerner?" One of the children asked, malicious glee filled his eyes as he picked up a stone to chuck at her. The others quickly joined the boy in jeering.

Elsa did not know why they were flinging hurtful words at her, for being something that she was not, but when she tried to back away, her hands flew out. In that moment, an accidental gale blew out of her palms, swirling in their own invisible currents and dancing around the children. It was just a cold wind, but it was littered with pieces of her soul, a thousand sparkling crystalline jewels of ice sprinkled and twirled around in pretty circles above the wild children, dazzling them where they stood.

But that moment of wonder lasted only as long as the passing wind, because the moment these people snapped out of it, the world exploded in havoc. The children and the adults both yelled and scream many slurs, some frightful and some angry, but the one word that stood out most was a label she didn't want.

"Witch!" They cried, "Sorcery!"

Elsa wanted to refute them, but they were speaking truth, from a certain point of view. What she had followed no logic – this was a wintery magic at its core, which she was born with and would probably die with.

And most importantly of all, Elsa knew she had no control over her powers. She didn't know how to stop the winds once they started, other than to let them die on their own. Perhaps it was best that these people hated and feared her, then they would avoid her and she would not harm them. Perhaps this was best…

… But no more! Resolve that had firmed now broke the dam that held her back. The words of her Father and Mother no longer held her down—_This is magic, so watch and listen well. Be astounded and be awed. _Seeing that none have yet cast a stone at her, she paused and added mentally, _please react well._

Elsa did not wonder what a good reaction might be though, having a life filled with only the bad.

She lifted her skirt daintily and took a curved step forward. A small tile of ice formed at the tip of her toes in the form of an intricate snowflake—

—_Calm down, Elsa. You've done this before, now do it in front of all these strangers. No pressure—_

The tile exploded outwards, knocking all the wildlings watching her onto their backs as it spread to cover the entire camp. Another step called forth a second, and then a third and fourth. They spread out in impossible speeds over the tundra where the camp laid, smoothing out the terrain into a flat, frozen surface of clear, glassy ice. The power that dwelled inside Elsa poured out and lit the lines within the snowflake patterns alit with white-blue light brighter than the sun being reflected on fresh powdery snow. Bars and pillars of the same material rose from each turn and twist, a thousand or more in a single instead, each easily avoided disturbing the camp and its inhabitants. Tiny tubes and beams grew outward in erratic designs in all directions from the tops of these pillars as they raised, each shaped like a unique snowflake yet somehow fitting into the design of the whole. Arches, palisades, ramparts rose as quickly as ditches and moats formed in the hexagonal shape outside of the plateau that formed. As more glimmering, diamond-like walls rose, towers along the walls, along the fortress within, and at the center all shot upwards like fireworks, solidifying in the single moment she took her final step and her heart sang the final tune of the song that she let fly.

Elsa blinked and looked about, seeing a larger, grander replication of the fortress of solitude she once crafted in a haste to test out her powers. At its center—where she stood—was a grand tower that could have held a ballroom on each floor, with a chandelier that shone just like the other piece she once made.

With a content sigh, she walked forward, and allowed a flight of spiraling stairs to form at her feet, sliding and carrying her down to the level of the wildlings below. The rush and adrenaline of letting her powers go wild drained when she turned her gaze upon the barbarous peoples, with their giants and their dozens upon dozens of different tribes, and filthy yet adorable children. For the moment she focused and exerted herself, Elsa concluded that even creating such a grand castle left her no less winded than her few steps out of the tent. She expected more jeers, to be honest, but she was greeted with silence instead.

Hesitantly, Elsa's shoulders shrugged as she sighed awkwardly, "Um, yes, magic. Right, I think I'll let Azula speak next time."

And what do you know, the fire princess walked out of Mance's tent with a content look on her face. But then she saw the winter wonderland around her and she sighed exasperatedly. "Elsa…" Azula rested her forehead in her palms.

"What?" Elsa frowned. It was a perfectly fine castle with perfectly pretty chandeliers! She even tiled the floors to feel like the marble tiles of home, what was wrong with it?

"I… you know what, this works too. This castle is great, you should be proud." And Elsa was more than proud at that moment – she was giddy and hungry for praise of her power even if she wasn't honest with herself about it. But Azula paid her little heed, turning abruptly to Mance and folded her arms below her chest in an expression of supreme smugness. She tilted her head sideways and asked, "Well? Is this worth the price, Mance Rayder?"

"By the Old Gods and the First Men," Mance Rayder's hands trembled. There was a foreign expression on the man's features, one that he had no shown anyone in a long time. But it was one that Elsa only recently was introduced to, and she recognized it well.

_It was hope_, Elsa fought hard not to emulate Azula's smug grin, but she couldn't help but smile too. _Maybe… my power is good for something after all?_

* * *

Notes: Reviews, por favor.


	4. Elsa II

Fire and Ice

Elsa II

In the days that followed, Elsa soon realized that ruling a kingdom indoors and hidden away was an utterly different creature compared actually _making a kingdom_. Well, not really, but it was as close to starting anew as she could possibly imagine. And where did all these wild folk come from? Elsa was flabbergasted by the sheer numbers that turned up—so many more tribes showed up seeking sanctuary that she had to raise her icy fortress by two tiers to house everyone who came—not that she showed her bewilderment, of course.

_A queen must have decorum_, Mother said to her once, not long after the incident with Anna. It was one of the many kernels of wisdom that Mother imparted upon her that she held dear, even if Mother left such a long time ago. _You must be proper and your motions elegant._

But more than that, Elsa must hold a court, of course. These leaders of the many, individual tribes of wild folk strode so boldly and proudly into her domain at first, only to become meek upon entering the vast fortress of her creation. Had it not been Azula, who cajoled them into their court, Elsa doubted these free men—as they called themselves—would have even dared or bothered to appear at the her feet. But cajoled by Azula they were, to kneel and to swear to the pair of them. They bowed and knelt, though Elsa never required that from them. A salute or a respectful nod would have been enough, in Arrendale. Was it their custom to do so, and to swear to follow them, by their strange spirits and gods? Elsa did not see fit to ask them that – that would be rude! Still, she made a note then to learn more of the religion and culture of these free folk.

Oh, it was nice to see her power acknowledged and appreciated at least! Yet that giddiness soon wore off as quickly as ice melted in the summer sun. It was always "please build me a bigger house", "why does he get the tower, I want that tower", "I want more stuff, make me stuff… please", "when are we going South", or the insufferable "it's too cold in here, please make it warmer". It was a small favor perhaps that they didn't try to take steps closer or try to touch her; Elsa tried hard enough as it was to not cause any more… accidents.

If not for Azula sitting on a throne beside her—occasionally adding a word or two of snide yet astute observation—why, Elsa thought she might have started acting like Anna and fallen asleep on her throne! Azula was a comfort to be around, partially because Elsa realized she wouldn't have to worry about accidentally freezing the oriental girl, but also because she held a rare wit for humorous japing that focused Elsa's interests on making the lives of these wild folk better.

Oh, there were grumblings in the beginning; Elsa had barely needed to remember her education to keep herself from rolling her eyes. No matter where she was, it seemed like she would never escape politicians who always wanted _more, more, and more_.

But then there was Mance Rayder, another member of Elsa's and Azula's court. He was a fount of wisdom, who sometimes even left Azula speechless, like he was doing just now. Oh, he was not using his wits and charm like Azula loved so much; Mance Rayder was perhaps the most knowledgeable man in this barren place, which Elsa found to be a necessary thing when there were over seventy clans converging here already.

"The Thenn are disciplined. They mine their own copper ore and fashion those weapons themselves. Styr is their leader, their Magnar, who is also the god of their people," Mance introduced gruffly at Elsa's side. It puzzled her why the man wanted to sit beside her when almost all of his conversations were with Azula. There was tension between the two, though Elsa couldn't tell what it was about or how it came to be. Not only that, Elsa grimaced to hide her nervousness as she inched away from Mance – he had no means of defending himself against her frost.

Elsa blinked at Mance's information. Though she had asked Mance Rayder to coach her about the different clans as much as she could learn in private, she had not remembered learning about their different beliefs. _A man who is also their god? What foolish pagan belief is that? How can a mortal be an immortal?_ She sat straighter and stiffer at the thought of this strange logic, much reminded of how Anna too had lacked the common sense to see what was right in front of her for a brief moment. Then, aloud, she asked, "How does their religion operate? What happens when their god bleeds, and what happens when their god dies, Mance Rayder?"

The old man's shoulders rose and he answered, "Even a god may die, thus a new one is found. The Magnar is a title that is passed to the most capable of the Thenn, but more than often passed from father to son." Then he added with a smirk, "And even a god may bleed. I defeated the man three times to earn his loyalty."

"You are indeed capable, and that is why we sought your counsel," Elsa acknowledged coolly.

The wizened man nodded silently in appreciation.

"Really? Copper weapons? Could you at the very least have iron tools?" Azula's pretty brow raised, almost as if she were preening at Elsa's side. Then she added nonchalantly, just as Mance sent a glare at her, "Oh, never mind that. You probably don't even know where to start. How are you going to break through a Wall manned by soldiers who have steel armor that your copper can barely dent?"

"Quite," Mance drawled, which Elsa recognized as a terrible mimicry of Azula's own bored tone. "Styr is more than capable of leading his best men into Castle Black, which is undermanned as it is."

"Styr, was it? I know his son well. Sigorn of the Thenn is, as you say, a disciplined officer, like the rest of the Thenn, even if their equipment is a bit… lacking," Azula agreed at least on one point.

Elsa turned to the fire princess and frowned. "When did you have time to meet Sigorn?"

"Oh, don't give me that look. You were busy learning who's who in the so many clans of the wildlings. I took it upon myself to build the beginnings of a better form of governing than… well, the mess they currently have," Azula waved casually at Mance Rayder in a manner that Elsa knew was purposely offensive, causing her frown to deepen.

"It is only way, the way we follow," Mance growled over Elsa's head at Azula, suddenly looking and sounding all too menacing.

"It is inefficient, it is undisciplined, and it will shatter in a hundred smaller conflicts the moment their chosen leader dies," Azula suddenly retorted, with a fire in her eyes that caused the room to feel hotter. But then she sat back and rolled her eyes. "Besides, a little bureaucracy is good for your people – it'll keep them from fighting each other, as you lamented every so often, Mance Rayder. Anyway, just what does Styr want to discuss anyway?

"And there's little I can do about it," Mance said the unspoken words. Then he added, in a louder and more formal voice, "Styr has been gathering men, for the assault on the Wall. Even this castle of ice cannot keep the White Walkers out forever. We must go south."

"Hm… in that, I agree with you. I'm beginning to tire of cold stew," Azula actually grumbled and turned to Elsa. She complained in a rather Anna-like way, "I'm not used to all these cold drinks, and even hot tea doesn't stay hot long enough for a second gulp in here."

Elsa shrugged, "Why don't you heat it up with your powers?"

"Using my powers on what? My wooden bowl with my wooden spoon on some wooden cups?" Azula huffed in thinly veiled sarcasm, letting a thin stream of blue fire shoot out of her lips like a squirt of water. "I'm not that desperate for warm drinks, yet."

Mance cleared his throat, "We need to revise our plan. With your powers, we can take the castles with ease. Once all the clans who can come have come… and I do not believe the remaining few will agree with your plans, Azula."

"What plans are these?" Elsa turned to Azula.

The fire princess smiled sardonically, before reaching over and petting Elsa's hand gently. Elsa pulled back, as if she was burned. Azula blinked and then reverted to a blank, unreadable expression. "What Mance Rayder calls my 'plans' are nothing more than forming a formal government, Elsa. Do you really want these people to start killing each other as soon as Mance is gone? _As soon as we are gone?_"

Elsa shook her head slowly, but she had to press further, both for her own curiosity and for a sinking feeling that didn't sit well in her heart. "But what have you actually done? We can dance around with words all day, but… Mance, what has Azula done really that has you so riled up?"

"She plans to—"

"Schools, Elsa," Azula's words rolled off of her tongue throatily, "Schools."

"Schools?" Elsa actually forgot her own schooling under her governess for a moment and tilted her head in confusion. "What do you mean by 'schools'?"

Azula replied easily, "Schools for teaching the young, wild children, of course. Of course, it is one school, and its conditions are deplorable, but… have I ever told you of my home in detail, Elsa?"

"No," Elsa whispered, surprised at how little she truly knew of Azula's beginnings.

"Let me tell you of one part of my nation, the Fire Kingdom. There are many small villages and tribes and clans scattered about around my home, and they are all embroiled in war and chaos. The Fire Nation brings peace to those lands, but if we come as tyrants, then it will simply be a short-lived peace, no? Of course, then we must help the people, to feed them, to give them good careers, and to ensure they all have a home of their own. But more than that, we must eliminate the reasons why they fight one another: their differences. The process is long and arduous, but it has certain rewards in disciplined and loyal citizens, where all are equal in our courts of law," Azula announced.

"That sounds like it is very beneficial to everyone involved," Elsa prodded carefully, knowing from her own lessons drilled into her head and from her own painful experiences that nothing was a one-sided story; nothing was ever as good as it sounded. "Mance?"

"I… cannot argue against what she wants to accomplish," the old man began to say. He paused, as if to think on his next words carefully. From the way a wisp of smoke seemed to be escaping Azula's lips that Elsa saw from the corner of her eyes, Mance have been doing exactly that. "But I have seen the classes she has set up. She eliminates the… the idea of clans entirely. Our differences and our history are what make us free men. That _we choose our leaders_ is what keeps us free. Perhaps… it is best you see and decide for yourself."

There was weight in those words, Elsa knew. Even with her lack of social interaction, she knew at that moment that Mance Rayder chose to trust in her with something greater than himself.

It was a heavy feeling, but Elsa was prepared to _rule a kingdom_. Elsa nodded stiffly and replied, "I believe that will be best."

"I would think so too," Azula's expression brightened immeasurably.

"But I should ask, where did you find the time to find teachers? What do these teachers teach and where are they teaching this?" Elsa muttered aloud.

As it turned out, Azula had procured one of the six courtyards that were exposed to the elements at the top tier of the snowflake fortress for the purpose of a school, and more than a few of her school instructors were from that same Thenn Clan, persuaded in by both Sigorn and Azula.

_If there was one thing that stood out about Azula, it was that she was definitely charismatic when she wanted to be_. Elsa didn't know what to make of the school even as she feasted her eyes upon it.

The creation of a stable and powerful sanctuary left many of the children and young adults of the seventy some clans free for more than a good part of the day. Many of them lounged around and played in the dirt and snow, like the wild children Elsa saw when she left the tent all those weeks ago. Here was a school, which Azula initially sold as a place to keep those children out of trouble while their parents got along with their lives. But even so, more than half of the clans didn't trust the 'Dragon Princess' with their children.

But it was a strange mentality that Elsa witnessed, where many individuals followed the group without question – and that same mentality caused so many to join up.

In the end, however, Elsa found Mance's worries to be silly; Azula did not have nearly enough time to 'eliminate the clans'. All that she did was teach them how to march and work in groups! The Thenn and other few instructors did seem harsh, but Elsa thought, _what was there to worry about? What could go wrong with this?_

"Greetings, Free Youths!" Azula barked from one of the lower walls that watched over the courtyard.

Suddenly, the children hurried with clumsy precision to run to their places, into rows and columns. They stood in formations of blocks, which Elsa once read about in her Father's books of war. There was a lack of discipline in these children still, with their heads turning about every now and then, and a few picking their nostrils or scratching their asses. But for a group of wild children that came from the mess of camping tents Elsa saw weeks ago, this seemed remarkably disciplined indeed. The children's feet clicked together at their ankles and they stomped into place upon the icy ground, which had some time ago been covered with a thin layer of soil. _Was Azula teaching them how to dig?_ That was a silly thought, Elsa watch on as the children saluted them with a tiny fist to each of their chests.

"Hail Azula! Hail Elsa!" They spoke in tandem, the voices of children and teenagers of all ages resonating through courtyard. "Hail! Hail!"

"Well?" Azula looked like a cat that just ate a remarkably fat canary. "What do you think, Elsa?"

Elsa nodded absentmindedly, before catching herself in the act and straightening herself abruptly. She turned to see Azula smirking widely, and Mance looked on, in a mix of emotions too hard for Elsa to read. "What else have you been teaching them?"

"Oh, numbers, loyalty, and that sort of thing. You know, things that are useful for the future. There's not much else we can do here at this time, other than to wait for the other clans to arrive," Azula lamented.

A smile was frozen upon Elsa's cheek, but she didn't feel it inside. There were thousands of them here, walking and marching about in uniform. _Do I feel inadequate? What is this uneasy feeling inside? _She turned her gaze towards the children. There were no muddy spots on their cheeks anymore. Their clothes were all trimmed and neat, for the pelts and dried leathers that they wore. Even the markings and face paintings and bone jewelry they wore were all uniform to their groups. It was like something out of the old stories of Ancient Roma…

"That's nice…" _I hope…_


	5. Ygritte I

Ygritte I

Since she was young, Ygritte always thought kneelers south of the wall had it wrong. They just couldn't understand that women were more than weaklings to be forced into tending hearths and rearing children. Not that the Free Folk were any better. Yes, they had spearwives, but they were still Free _Men_ in reality. They thought women useful and able, but still weaker than men.

Bah!

The three men at her feet wouldn't have the opportunity to underestimate women anymore. They were dead, and not even by the blades of their enemies. Two _girls_—clearly not yet grown women from the looks of their unblemished skin—just wandered into their camp. They were dressed like the pretty ladies of the southern lords, so much so that the others weren't thinking with their bigger heads anymore.

Then the black-haired one started _moving_. It was unlike anything Ygritte had seen before and she had witnessed dead men come alive only to be crushed by fists of giants before. The black-haired one _danced_ around their spears and swords – her motions were a black, red and golden blur against the glare of the snow.

When she stopped moving, there was a perceivable smugness about her though Ygritte found it appropriate. The three men had surrounded her, but their blades were stuck within each other. And by the way the girl sauntered towards the last remaining wildling at the camp, Ygritte knew that the result was intentional.

"Well? Aren't you going to try to stab me too? There's no one for me to redirect towards you anymore," The black-haired one gloated.

She spoke with a strange, high-pitched accent, Ygritte noted absentmindedly. It was a different sort of sound that was even more warped than the speech of the south. The girl's tongue curled at her 'R's and 'L's, yet her accent made her sound so… fragile, like a thing to be protected.

The whole affair happened so quickly that Ygritte could react. Although those dead men were not her close friends, Ygritte had scouted and hunted with them before. She couldn't get any closer to someone, unless she wanted them in as a part of her family after all. Yet Ygritte was a survivor, like all who flocked to Mance Rayder's call, so it was only moment later that she composed herself. She shook her head slowly as to not make any threatening gestures. "No, I know not to do that. You wouldn't have gotten up here this far without skill."

"Ah, that's good, you will talk then. My name is Azula, and my friend here is Elsa. We're a bit lost, you see, and we're looking for directions." Azula was clearly the speaker of the two; her blonde counterpart looked like she was lost, but she was also staring at Ygritte's coppery hair as if she was looking at a White Walker. Her attire and speech didn't sound like from around the south or any of the other clans, so they must be from across the sea?

She wondered why they didn't attach a clan name to their names in their introductions. Were they like the lowborn of the south? That seemed vastly unlikely both from their postures and from the ridiculously fine-looking clothing. Were they bastards then? It would probably rile them up were she to ask, Ygritte thought.

Ygritte waited for more instructions, but she shrugged when she heard none. "You'll have to be more specific than that, Azula. I can't give you directions if you don't tell me where you're going."

"Oh, aren't you a smart one. Isn't she charming, Elsa? I haven't japed in a rather long time, since my brother left, in fact," The black-haired girl chortled lightly to her companion.

"Where _are_ we going, Azula?" Elsa asked.

Ygritte frowned internally at the neutral tone of the blonde's voice. This one had a different accent too; it was too rough and strong. This Elsa sounded like one of theirs, if only as a distant cousin who stayed south too long. But her clothing marked her as someone who couldn't be one of the Free Folk. Ygritte didn't even know what the material was, but it wasn't from around anywhere she had been to – it glimmered brighter than any metal, but looked so delicate and thin. How was this Elsa not shivering in the wind?

"Well, we can't stay up here in the middle of nowhere, now can we? What are you going to eat at the top of the mountain? Snow?" Azula humored her companion. Ygritte thought it just sounded like flowery words that didn't actually answer the question. But then the oriental girl turned back to Ygritte and smiled predatorily. "Why don't you tell us about where we are… you haven't mentioned what your name was."

"No, I haven't," Ygritte agreed. She so wanted to glance away from the raven haired girl's stare. Those golden eyes sent shivers down her spine and she didn't know why. She felt like she was staring into the eyes of a wolf or a hawk. Stifling a sigh, Ygritte grimaced. "But it's not like it matters. You'll kill me, right? Go ahead and kill me."

Azula blinked and swayed, as if she were trying to shrug but was too elegant to do so. "Ah, but when have I killed someone?" She turned pointedly towards the gasping, bleeding men at her feet. "Your companions killed each other. Were you close to them?"

She sounded almost as if she were really concerned, Ygritte's frown deepened. Fine. Her blade rolled uselessly in her hands. Ygritte lowered her weapon, but she didn't set it aside. "I am Ygritte," She replied with faux pride.

"Ygritte. What a lovely name, isn't it, Elsa? Now then, where are we, Ygritte?"

"You don't… do you know nothing?" Ygritte nearly gapped. How did the girl come so far north without knowing where she went? These lands are harsh, too much so far two dainty ladies of the south.

Azula's eyes flashed dangerously. Ygritte saw only a single glare of gold, like the light she saw from the reflection off of a blade as it was turned. But as soon as it came, it was gone.

"This is a rather crude weapon, isn't it?" Azula hefted up Ygritte's spear. She turned it over and held the shaft up to her eyes and studied the wooden weapon for all of its notches and flaws. "Old too, and the point is shaped like teeth. How droll."

Ygritte gapped then. When did Azula take it from her hands? She fell back a step from shock and found her back pressed against a boulder. When had Azula pressed her so many steps back?

"Come now—" Azula leaned closer.

"That's quite enough, Azula," The colder of the two girls finally spoke. Elsa brushed her stray hair aside and walked up to the raven hair girl's side, as calmly as if she was not in the wilderness, with nothing between her and the thousands of free folk wandering about. "There is no need to threaten her—she hasn't raised her weapon against us, other than for self-defense. But you make a good point… where are we, Ygritte?"

Ygritte sighed as the dangerous pressure that Azula exerted upon her seemed to disappear almost instantly. She let go of a breath she didn't know she was holding in. If this Elsa could keep her dangerous friend at bay, then that was more than good enough for Ygritte. "You're near the Fist of the First Men, see over there in the south? That hill that rises above the trees."

"That explains nothing. Where is the Fire Nation in relation to this place?" Azula grumbled angrily.

"I don't know." Ygritte leaned back. The air felt too warm to be comfortable around Azula. Fire Nation? She almost asked what nation was that, because it sounded just as uncomfortable.

"What?" The shaft of Ygritte's spear cracked. Azula's knuckles were angry and white as she clenched her fist. "Let me repeat myself. The Fire Nation—"

Elsa placed a hand on Azula's fist then and interrupted again. "Azula, let me speak with you for a minute, please?"

"What? We're in the middle of a conversation right here!"

The blonde lady sighed and backed away. It looked like she was afraid of even walking too close to Azula in Ygritte's eyes. Elsa whispered harshly, but loud enough to be heard, "Azula! Even I never heard of a Fire Nation! And I doubt you know anything about Arrendale either. Calm down!"

Azula stopped suddenly and grew quiet. She stared at Elsa, as if she had not seen her before. Then the raven haired girl nodded and closed her eyes, sighing angrily. "Right. Of course… We're… we're somewhere else. A whole, spirits-damned world! Ha... Ha! Haha!"

"What's so funny?" Ygritte grumbled. The raven haired girl was insane, so her friend was probably no better. She came to a realization then: she was going to be killed if she kept staying near these two. She knew she was going to die to violence when she left home, but she was going to die to this? Ygritte thought the world unfair, but never _this_ unfair. She growled towards the blonde too, "And what're you looking at?"

"Oh, it's just, you… your hair, it reminds me of someone." Elsa immediately looked away, like a child caught stealing food from her parents.

Ygritte replied with an airs of false bravado, "I don't tumble with girls."

It took a moment for the blonde to understand what Ygritte was saying. When Elsa finally understood what Ygritte implied and implied about her, she sputtered. "I-I don't! I didn't mean it like _that!_ Azula, stop laughing! I see that smile you're trying to hide!"

"Alright, why don't we visit Ygritte's home?" Azula hid her smile behind her palm.

Elsa shook her head solemnly. "It's too dangerous, for them."

Azula leaned in and smiled, invading Elsa's person with the ease and confidence of a veteran hunter. When Azula wrapped an arm around Elsa's shoulder, Elsa looked like she wanted nothing more than to jump away for Azula's sake. But Ygritte found that Azula was much stronger than Elsa. "Come on, you're a Queen, aren't you?" She whispered. Ygritte strained her ears at that. Queen? Yet Ygritte only caught a few words here and there in between, "… Bathrooms… toiletries… eating… bed… sheets? And… who… clothes… cotton… and…" The whispers grew softer and softer as Azula leaned closer to Elsa's nape.

Sighing, the blonde nodded after several minutes of convincing. "Fine… but only because you will help me. You won't break your own word on this, will you? As a princess, that is."

Azula tilted her head and nodded after a pause. Then she turned to Ygritte, "Now then, Ygritte!"

Ygritte tried to inch away from the strange girl without either of them noticing. She found her spear planted at her feet instead.

"Be a good girl and take me to your leader, Ygritte." Azula said.

Ygritte would have liked to think of those words as a request, but she knew they were a command. Maybe if she led them back to camp, the others will take care of them for her? She wished it were that simple. But… "Even if I bring you to my hearth, there is no way Mance Rayder will see you without a reason. And you will be bound too, with your weapons taken away."

"Do you see that clearing over there? With glassy, black ash for earth and icicles sticking out from every inch of earth? Who do you think made that?" Azula asked suddenly, but she didn't wait for Ygritte to respond. "Now it can't be natural, can it? Someone made it, but who?"

Then Ygritte's spear burst into blue flames.

Ygritte stared. Then she fell back on her bottom. She stared at her spear and then at Azula, who was caressing a ball of blue fire in her hand. Then Ygritte turned to Elsa desperately, only to witness the blonde burying her head in her hands. Then Ygritte turned back to her spear, which was only a pile of ashes and a few pieces of blackened sticks. "No one is going to believe this."


	6. Azula III

Azula III-I

A good leader got her hands dirty beside her followers, Azula thought as she tiptoed along the catwalk. No one could see her directly from this angle and it was too dark for any reflection to be clear. Her senses stretched around her, but it was not easy to have awareness in every direction. It was a pity that she had no followers who could follow in this. Something tugged at her chest. It felt tight and hard to breathe—but not exactly painful either. There was no use wishing Mai and Ty Lee were beside her, after all.

Elsa had a point, despite the blonde's simple ideals. Azula needed to know more about those she led. She conceded this fact secretly, to herself and only to herself. _Even if many of Elsa's smaller decisions make her seem like soft-hearted and weak, the few feelings she shares are not wrong._ There was too much Azula didn't know about these… free folk.

There was no other nation in the world akin to the Fire Nation. There was no other close to its equal. Azula would never forget her home… but this didn't mean she couldn't forge something better.

_Could she?_

The raven-haired princess prowled through the halls, of the citadel. There were no other words for the monstrous structure other than that now.

The outer most layer of ice was over fourty meters tall and ten meters wide. Each successive layer added more than two stories and more thickness to the inner walls that necessary. Elsa had worked on this structure for three times. The first time, she summoned its barebones form within moments. The second time she was forced to expand, as ten new clans joined the horde of wildlings. And after nearly three weeks since they arrived and on the advent of the ninetieth free clan, Elsa sent a full day in motion. Not even three days, she had a citadel more impregnable than the jewel of the Northern Water Tribes! Azula knew this well, having seen the plans and wargames for the dreaded North Pole years ago.

It boggled the mind at what Elsa could achieve if she put her mind to it—or if Azula offered her the right motivation. After all, not even a full battalion of waterbenders could do accomplish this same feat in a month of continued work! Oh, Azula knew they might be able to raise the same walls at the same height and width. That was never in doubt. But the walls of ice made by waterbenders she understood: she could melt those walls and she could break them. They were weak in both structure and in material. But Elsa's citadel was formed of ice as hard as iron with intricate designs that required such precision that Azula knew Elsa just could not be a waterbender—and if she were, she must be possessed somehow by one of the greatest ice spirits in existence. Those walls were too impossible in height and form, in their ornate designs that required the accumulation of a hundred years of artisan work. But more than anything, those walls held together like the highest quality steel, better than the materials Azula borrowed for the siege of Ba Sing Se.

If she were more honest and more understanding of her own desires, Azula might have thought these walks through the empty halls soothing. Elsa sought to give every clan room and space, but ended up making large, empty halls in between all of that. They left Azula alone with her thoughts—the same thoughts that held nothing but of Elsa's potential and their budding but tenuous friendship. Oh, if only Elsa was Azula's during the war!

But Elsa wasn't—she was not of Azula's world. She was from a world where none shared the powers over ice and wind as Elsa controlled.

This too confused Azula. Had she been the only firebender in the world, the whole would bow to her. It would be proof of her right as Agni's chosen, a Heavenly Mandate that was tradition and passed down through her family from a time when the Fire Nation first began. _She could have had everything! She could have reforged the world in her own image!_

Instead of ruling the world, Elsa hid. Oh, Elsa never mentioned this, and she probably never will show such a blatant weakness, Azula thought. But Azula knew. She saw the apprehension in Elsa's eyes. It appeared every time a servant or a follower approached. It appeared every time Mance Rayder sat beside them. Sometimes, Azula saw it even when they held hands as they talked.

Azula shook her head in anger and confusion. _Elsa is too different, too strange and irrational. She is too kind. _It was almost disgusting, if Azula hadn't seen how that same gentle behavior affected the wildling barbarians._ They seek her out and follow her willingly. They hide behind her and look at her with the same light they see Mance Rayder._

Azula's lips curved upwards with sadistic glee. _Ah, but Elsa looks to me in that same way._

"Who's there?" A young, girlish voice asked from behind.

Azula spun around, her eyes flashing dangerously as a ring of blue fire erupted from her hands and encircled her body in bright immolation. Her eyes narrowed as the sudden light nearly blinded her darkness adjusted eyes. Seeing the silhouette of child, Azula sighed. "Oh, it was just you."

"Q-Queen Azula?" It was one of the children, one of the nameless hundreds too young to join her newly established corps. The free folk never named their children while they were still young, because the frozen wastes bore a high child mortality rate. Some of them slacked off in naming their children even then, but not often. This nameless girl walked over. The pitter patter sounds of her straw and hide covered feet echoed through the halls. Then she held her hands up against the ring of fire surround Azula and then rubbed her hands together. "Oh, that's so warm."

"Wha… what are you doing?" Azula frowned.

"Uh, I was in pottying 'n now I'm getting warm."

"Did you wash your hands?" Azula's frown deepened. Those tiny fingers were awfully close.

"Uhm…" The child looked away. Then she asked, "Yes?"

Azula's eyes narrowed.

"… No?" The wildling girl tried again.

"Go wash your hands," Azula commanded regally.

"Aw, but it's cold, and it's night… and… okay…" The girl turned about and pattered away against the ice-marble tiles. When Elsa created her citadel, she included restrooms. It was common sense to have them to both of the girls. But when they found out that the wildlings did not even know what basic sanitation was, it was actually Elsa who led a whole movement. The girls worked together… to make the free folk wash their hands. Sure, the soap they made thus far was no matter than animal fat and ash, but it was the beginnings of a soap works anyway. The adults all voiced their discontent on this matter, but Elsa and Azula presented a united front that left the others no say on this matter. Thankfully, the children were quick to take up on this, and Elsa often urged them to urge their parents to keep clean. The greater problem was that it was Elsa who drilled into the ground for water. Azula didn't know how far the blonde went, but even the hot spring water she brought up was cooled to an almost icy chill by the time it poured into the reservoir. The versatility of Elsa's ability was… shocking, and Azula honestly didn't know what else to say to her blonde counterpart other than a simple congratulations. _The way Elsa beams from such a simple compliment makes the throne room feel brighter. It is so unlike her usual self… _Azula knew better than to make her compliments anything but rare.

_At least the wildlings don't look so dirty anymore…_ As Azula turned away, feeling a momentary triumph, the little girl turned about and yelled, "Hey Queen Azula!"

"Yes?" She raised an elegant brow in question.

"Are… are you a goddess?"

"Why do you ask that, child?"

"Cuz my ma's ma says you 'n Queen Elsa are goddesses and we got to pray to you to survive the winter," The girl pouted.

Azula pretended to consider the thought for a moment, while just preening slightly. "Hmm? Well, maybe the words of your grandmother have some wisdom in them. If not goddesses, what would we be? Can you think of anyone else who can do what we do?"

"… I dunno," The girl shrugged. "Nope."

"Do you think we're goddesses?"

"I dunno. I suppose so." She fidgeted under scrutiny and looked around before turning back to Azula and smiling innocently. "Pa says you're the Queen of Summer and Elsa's the Queen of Winter, and it's cuz we're in the cold, so you don't got much fire."

"That is an interesting theory," Azula humored, but she spoke gently with her eyes dancing and full of interest. "What else did they say about me?"

"Not much. Ma says you can't make big fires cuz winter is coming. She says it's a good thing too, cuz then erry' thing'd be on fire."

Azula chuckled in satisfaction. "Then obey your parents and respect your grandparents. They have lived longer than you and they have cared for you. What is your name, child?" Azula added, realizing that the girl might be old enough to have one.

"Erm… mosta time ma and pa call me 'heyyou' or 'girl', but they starting to call me Ana lately. Ana is a name, right?" Ana tilted her head in confusion.

Azula nodded. "It is. Now go wash your hands before going to bed and don't wake anyone, Ana. I must return to my… vigilant watch over _our_ people. Be a good girl, and you may one day join the Free Youths."

"G'night 'Zula…" The girl yawned and wandered off.

Azula blinked. If it wasn't for the lack of bystanders, Azula would have left the girl with a burn to remind her of her disrespect! Even at such a young age, Ana should know to address her superiors by her proper title!

Another part of Azula—the part that seemed to be growing bigger and louder the longer she stayed beside Elsa—yawned internally. _Yes, keep telling yourself that_.

With a turn of her heel, Azula faded into the darkness. She mapped out where most of the clans were and knew which to bring into her growing collection of court officials and bureaucrats. She wouldn't memorize all the unnecessary information about the clans—that was a waste of her time and she had Elsa for that. No, instead, she needed to find out more about the clans she didn't want to be a part of what she was creating. _I bet Zuzu never crept through the darkness like this. He was always one for foolishness…_


End file.
